


Clarity

by baneofpaley



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baneofpaley/pseuds/baneofpaley
Summary: The first time she showed up was after Pepper had left.To this day he didn't know exactly how she figured out what happened to them, but she was Natasha Romanoff. No information is too classified for someone who is immune to clearance, and Tony learned long ago that trying to analyze her motivations would get him nothing more than false conclusions and a headache.





	Clarity

The first time she showed up was after Pepper had left.

To this day he didn't know exactly how she figured out what happened to them, but she was Natasha Romanoff. No information is too classified for someone who is immune to clearance, and Tony learned long ago that trying to analyze her motivations would get him nothing more than false conclusions and a headache. He gave no fight when she lured him away from his tools with soft lips and gentle hands, and he would probably be more ashamed at how easy it had been for her to tangle him in her web like any other man, if he didn't know that it was for his own benefit. When she had him she had him completely, and in those moments Tony didn't think about Pepper or all of the terrible things that he'd done, nor did he think about the overwhelming sense of doom that constantly lingered just on the edge of his consciousness. When Natasha had him, Tony thought about nothing but her. That clarity would stay with him long after she was gone.

The little visits that she would pay him were ongoing, and she'd always show up just when he needed her to. It was easy in the beginning when all he had to do was wonder how she knew, whether she had particularly good timing or if he had a tell that let her know when he was starting to spiral again. In the end he let it rest, because he knew himself too well and if she told him about the cracks he had in his mask he'd have no choice but to patch them; which would mean their private, shared nights would come to a halt. Tony wasn't foolish enough to think that sleeping with Natasha meant something on a level deeper than simply getting his head back on straight, but he also knew that he enjoyed it too much; not her specifically, but the clarity. He missed the clarity. 

It got a more complicated when he began to wonder why, because that was harder to let go of. They had never been particularly close in a fragile acquaintanceship with a foundation of deception but she always came to him when he needed her most, sometimes before even he knew it. He never questioned it, too fearful of chasing her off because he knew that he wouldn't get her type of comfort anywhere else. Tony wasn't a stranger to finding a woman late at night to keep himself distracted, but Natasha offered more than simple anonymous sex. She never asked for anything and there was no need to put on a performance with her, because expensive alcohol and cars never impressed Romanoff. 

It wasn't conventional and he doubted that anyone would support their dysfunctional situation if they knew, which nobody did. Tony's mind wasn't conventional though, and neither were the solutions necessary to calm the storm in his head. Natasha recognized that and provided the lucidity that he needed, and realizing that ultimately gave Stark justification to set the 'why' aside. Natasha came because she could help him, and because beneath a dark history and a quest for redemption she was, ultimately, kind. She knew what it was like to lose clarity, and she saved him from that when she could.

After the Accords he was certain that the end of their 'therapy sessions' had come, not only because Natasha was forced into hiding but because of what he had said to her. She made a tactical move and he made it personal, offering no help despite the new world and family that she had carefully constructed for herself crumbling apart once again. That's why, when he heard her voice late at night in his workshop, he looked almost astounded to turn and find her in his doorway.

"Building something for your new little spider?"

She looked the same save for her hair being a little shorter, and her skin was barely kissed by the sun as if she'd been traveling. He didn't bother to ask how she managed to make her way to the heart of New York despite her fugitive status; that part at least didn't surprise him at all. She wouldn't have told him if he questioned her anyway. "Generosity is one of my best qualities." His reply came only with a momentary delay, and he continued quickly as he reached for a towel to wipe his hands on. "I changed the access codes."

"Yeah, that was cute." The smile she gave was smug, and her boots echoed as she stepped onto the tile floor to approach him. Either Natasha was smart enough to break through Stark's basic security or he purposefully didn't try hard enough to keep her out. He didn't want to consider which was more accurate of the two.

Tony allowed her to get close even though there was a very real possibility she'd hit him, because he'd partially deserve that. He had watched her run to disappear in the way that only Natasha could manage, and although she had chosen her side Tony had found too much satisfaction in knowing that her world had come undone. He knew that she could handle it, but after many sleepless nights of introspection it was the fact that she shouldn't have _had_ to that bothered him so deeply. He didn't make her run away, the choices she made did and he'd hold no responsibility in that, but he made her do it alone. That part was on him.

The blow didn't come. When she reached him her fingers curled into the front of his thin shirt, and it took more effort than he'd admit to lean back when she moved forward as if to kiss him. She noticed, and she shifted back on her heels to meet his face of confusion with one of patience, as if his reaction was expected. Perhaps she foresaw how this would unfold before arriving. "Really?" He was too surprised to keep his faux sense of calm, so he followed up quickly in an attempt to recover. "Not even a hello?" He should have pulled away from her but he made no move to do so, far too interested in the moment he's found himself in. Natasha's intentions were a mystery, her motivations weren't something she'd ever share, and that thrills him. The adrenaline of uncertainty that came with being on guard was already rushing through him and Tony wanted to chase that feeling. Reckless, yes, but Natasha was dangerous and unpredictable when someone had wronged her. That made him feel alive.

"Hello." The word came with a hint of exasperation, and it brought a crooked smile to Tony's lips. She could act frustrated with him but there was a reason she came, and he knew that it wasn't for 'therapy'. He hadn't hit rock bottom, and that was the only time she came to him alone. She was working an angle, and he wanted to know what it was.

"I thought you'd be in the middle of nowhere, China right now." He didn't ask directly where she had disappeared to because if she had answered he wouldn't have believed her anyway. 

Her response was delivered on a sigh. "I had to come back to get a few things in order. I thought that I would stop by."

They're playing a game. It was a dance with Natasha, a careful one of loaded phrases and false confidence, and whoever showed weakness first would lose. Asking too many questions and revealing just how in the dark he was, that would be weakness; and Tony won't lose. "I'm flattered," he began with a tilted head, and the way she rolled her eyes only made him grin. "But I'm doing alright, been sleeping. I'm even thinking about joining a book club." He needed more information and the only way to get it was in an attempt to keep her talking. She didn't come to fight about the Accords or they'd already be waist deep in argument, and that was just fine with him. She had made her decisions on her own and Tony had been cold in ways he shouldn't have been, it was too appealing to assume that they were both on the same page about that without spoken word. It still didn't explain why she had come when walking into his tower with a price on her head was so risky. He wasn't deluded enough to think he could guess her intentions, but he did know enough about her to know that Natasha never took unnecessary risks.

"What I'm saying is that I'm fine. Not that I'm complaining," his hands moved behind him to grasp the edge his workshop table and he glanced down pointedly at her hand in his shirt before his attention rested on her face once more. "Just that we usually save this sort of meeting for rock bottom, unless this is a preemptive strike sort of thing which, by all means-"

"Tony." Natasha raised a single eyebrow when she interrupted him, and Tony briefly wondered if she knew that she was the only one with enough nerve to look at him as if he was stupid. "This isn't about you." Her words came with a finality that clearly meant his questioning was finished, and Tony closed his mouth to instead stare down at her in silence, his mind kicking into high gear. The simple response is what made him concerned, because Natasha didn't come to him like this, with obvious physical intention, for herself. She never trusted Tony enough to let him see her vulnerable. In fact, he was almost certain that she never trusted anyone to that level other than perhaps Clint. 

This wouldn't have been the first time that he'd misjudged her however. Tony had never expected her to show up after Pepper had left to pull him out of the darkness he was falling into, and he had been certain that the next time they saw each other after the Accords she would be furious with him. He realized then that she hadn't claimed to come to him for her own comfort, Tony had simply assumed as much. His biggest mistake with Natasha Romanoff was assuming to know what goes on in her head, and he has to be aware of it at all times. Nothing that she ever says is what it truly is.

"We should talk." He'd like to be able to say that he at least tried.

Her reply comes too quickly, as if she heard his protest before he spoke it. "I didn't come here to talk." She looked bored. "I don't need to hear anything you want to say. Am I going to have to find what I need somewhere else?"

Although her words weren't a threat he took them as one, and he had a feeling that it was her exact intention for him to do so. Getting more information out of her was hopeless, which meant he could either accept what he can't know or turn her away. The latter was never an option for him.

Her fingers were still twisted into cotton as he leaned in, silencing both himself and the suspicious thoughts in his head with a slow and purposeful kiss. She came rushing back to him with a taste of mint and the feel of soft hair tangled in one hand, her familiar scent of lavender and soap wiping his mind until he could think of nothing else but the way her arms draped their way around his shoulders. Tony should have found it concerning how quickly Natasha always managed to pull him from reality, but he liked the place where she brought him instead far too much. The world where only she existed was the only one he found peace in now, and he would always forget how much it felt like home until she brought him back there. He was falling into something dangerous with her and he could feel it, but the payoff was too good to turn away from. The risk was worth taking. 

She was being more passive, this time allowing Tony to run his fingers down her waist to play at the hem of her shirt instead of putting his hands exactly where she wanted them. He took the time to explore her because she allowed it, keeping the pace slow with a sense of sensuality instead of pushing him forward as if he was an objective to be accomplished. It was different in a good way, and he didn't stop until he felt her unfastening the button of his fly. Instead he took her hand to lead her out of his workshop and to his bedroom, where he could fall into a mattress and sheets with her wrapped tightly in his arms.

Being with Natasha was like floating in an open sea, peaceful and comforting but with unpredictability and an assurance that the tides could change at any time to drown him. He was only there with her because she had decided it, another silent understanding between the two of them, but this time he felt like he was a part of her instead of a welcomed guest. Time was forgotten with neither of them having any place to be, and Tony could feel her matching his fervor as he poured everything, his starvation for physical contact and his guilt for how everything ended, into his time with her. They only stopped to breathe, and even those moments were filled with soft touches and lips hovering over hot skin. Every time she said his name he remembered how much he had missed what she gave him, and every time she kissed him he remembered how much he had missed _her_.

He payed no attention to the world that was spinning around them, so when he saw the sun starting to rise on the horizon outside of his bedroom windows he was genuinely surprised that it had been that long. He watched the light stretch across the city as he relaxed in bed, the distant sound of his shower running in the background, and his attention is only pulled away when he hears her leaving the bathroom to return to him. She was fully dressed already and although that was what Tony was expecting, he could feel his heart tighten at what that meant. She never stayed, but this time was different. This time, he didn't know when he'd see her again, and things still felt so unfinished.

She sat at the edge of the bed to lean down and pull her boots on, and Tony propped himself up on his elbows to watch her for a lingering moment before speaking. "No breakfast?" He tried to sell it like a joke when it wasn't, but he knew that Natasha would see through it anyway. He wanted her to stay, then they could talk about everything that had happened and he could finally offer her the help that he should have offered in the first place. It was harder when he didn't know if she'd ever be able to make it back to him.

The smile that she gave as she laced her boots didn't sit right with him, and Tony sat up completely as he ran through possible justifications to keep her around. Before he could voice any of them, Natasha spoke. "Do you know how many of my friends I do this with?" She questioned him, innocent and yet leading.

Tony wrinkled his nose. "That sounds like a loaded question and I don't think that I want the answer to it."

Natasha finished tying her second boot with another smile before she looked at him, placing her hand on his leg with an innocent touch that still managed to send a small spark of heat through him. "Just you." Once again she managed to surprise him, and it must have shown on his face because she followed up with a one shouldered shrug. "You needed it. Sometimes I needed it." For a second, silence hung in the air. "And I trusted you."

The room became suddenly cold and Tony could feel ice tingle down his spine. He hadn't missed the way she had spoken in past tense, but he reminded himself not to assume anything; never assume with Natasha. His throat had suddenly gone dry, and it took him too long to find his voice again. "We all fucked up in some way." It's wasn't necessarily an apology but at that point he doubted that one would make much of a difference. Whatever conversation Natasha was planning, she was planning it since she arrived. He realized that it was probably why she came in the first place.

She didn't yell. She didn't even speak at first, instead standing and walking up the side of the bed, the hand on his leg never leaving as she traced her fingers up his thigh and over his hip until it came to rest on his chest. When she leaned down he could feel her lips brush against the edge of his ear, and when she spoke her words came in a quiet but audible whisper.

"You're never going to see me again."

The grip around his heart tightened until it nearly suffocated him, because it clicked into place all at once. She hadn't come to be comforted, and she hadn't come for him. It was another assumption to think that her anger was something he could identify upon sight, because Natasha didn't yell when she became angry, she simply removed the thorn in her side and reminded him that he needed her more than she ever needed him. The night they had just spent together wasn't a reunion but a goodbye, and a reminder of how she could leave him after giving him the clear head that he always held so dear. Natasha had come to reveal that not only could she could give him his clarity but she could take it away with just as little effort. The soft touches and their prolonged session made him feel important to her, simply so she could remind him that he wasn't. Not anymore.

She came simply to remind him that he wanted her there.

"Natasha-" he was cut off by a soft kiss against his cheek, and even if he hadn't been he didn't know what he could have said. She was a storm that he took for granted, too busy admiring her beauty to remember that destruction is what she knew best. She wouldn't leave him shattered but that wasn't her intention in the first place, he knew as he watched her turn her back on him to walk out of his bedroom. He didn't need her but she made him know that he could, and he didn't love her but she made him realize that he wanted to. She hadn't made herself a heartbreak for him, but instead a lingering 'what if', and Natasha knew Tony well enough to know how much worse that was for someone like him. 

The sound of his door closing carried a finality with it, and it was the sound of unexplored possibility that he could never go back to.


End file.
